After the End
by The Owl's Pen
Summary: Finchley isn't home for the four Pevensies. Narnia is. But after the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Lucy, Edmund, Peter and Susan must find a way to make this land, this life, home. Lucy/Edmund/Peter/Susan SiblingFic
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes**

**Disclaimer: **C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I! If I did, I'd be discussing the script of _Voyage of the Dawn Treader _with Georgie Henley and Skandar Keynes _right now!_

**Rated: T for general angstiness**

**Hello everyone! Originally the three sections of this installment were going to be three seperate chapters. But, each of them was so short that I felt they belonged together... I'll let you decide *smiles* Three more full chapters are in progress. Please read and enjoy!**

**After the End**

Edmund sat in the stuffy train compartment with his arms around Lucy. His little sister had finally fallen asleep, lulled by the incessant motion of the train. He was glad. At least in sleep she might dream. Awake, there was only one thing to occupy her mind.

Aslan had told Lucy and Edmund that they weren't coming back to Narnia.

Edmund shifted a little and looked down at Lu. She was curled against his side, her head resting on his chest. Her dress was rumpled and twisted, but it didn't seem to hinder her sleeping. In her lap she clutched a flat, carefully wrapped package as if she would die before she let it go. Edmund bent to rest his chin in Lu's hair. He stared at the package.

Eustace had given it to her. Edmund wasn't sure if his cousin had asked Aunt Alberta if it was alright, but somehow he didn't think Eustace cared either way. The younger boy had come downstairs that morning before the two Pevensies left, and presented a brown paper-wrapped object to Lucy. She didn't even have to open it for her or Edmund to know what it was. Lu just sat there, sliding her hands over the familiar rectangular outline, a little tremor running over her lips.

"I thought you might need it… more than I do," Eustace said awkwardly.

Lucy cried out and threw her arms around her cousin, burying her face in his neck.

"W-what did I say?" Eustace gasped. "Don't you want it?"

The little auburn head on his shoulder nodded vigorously.

Bewildered, the boy looked to Edmund for help.

Ed, for his part, was overcome by his cousin's gesture. So much so that he did the last thing he would ever have thought of doing when he first came to Eustace's home some weeks before; he put his arms not only around his sister, but also his cousin, and pulled them both into a tight embrace. He ignored the boy's startled squeak. "Thank you, Eustace," he murmured. "For the kindness you have shown to my Lucy."

The younger boy had been rather flustered the rest of the day, and as a result their goodbyes at the station were awkward. But Lucy and Edmund had promised to write, and Eustace had agreed that it was a good plan. Ed had taken his sister's hand, led her onto the train, and put his arms around her.

They had stayed that way for the past hour.

Brother and sister had hardly spoken on the long ride. Edmund watched as a grey English countryside sped away from them, the occasional horse or stag making his heart leap and fall at the same time. Lucy sat gripping the package in her fingers the entire time. Once she had hesitantly offered to let Edmund hold it, but he declined. He dared not take from Lucy the one tangible tie she had to Narnia.

Lucy shifted in her sleep and murmured. Ed turned his ear, hoping to catch what she was saying. She sounded so very Narnian when she talked in her sleep, as Edmund had discovered when the crew of the _Dawn Treader_made camp on Dragon Island. One night he had lain awake for well over an hour, listening to his sister's intermittent mumblings about Dryads and feasts, old tales half-forgotten, tournaments and Fauns, and Aslan. Always, Aslan. Even now, on a rumbling train in England. Edmund smiled and listened contentedly. Lucy's murmurs quieted.

And then she gave a soft, sudden cry. Her brother's heart twisted in on itself, knowing that this was the cry of another heart in pain. A cry for her country. A cry for her loved ones. A cry for Aslan.

Edmund buried his face in her auburn hair, hugging her tighter. "It's alright, Lu," he whispered, sure he was lying. It wasn't alright. They were never going back. His eyes began to sting, but he commanded his tears to stay put. King Edmund must always be strong for his Queen Lucy. "Just a little while longer now, and we'll be with Peter."

At the mention of her oldest brother's name, Lu relaxed. No wonder. Peter had always been Lu's comforter and confidant. No matter how much she and her other siblings loved one another, the High King would always be the one to soothe her troubles. And since Mum, Dad, and Susan were still in the States for a few more days, Peter, having finished his studying with Professor Kirke, was supposed to meet the two youngest Pevensies at the station. Edmund was glad of that. Lucy wasn't the only one who looked to Peter for comfort. He wanted his older brother so badly right now, wanted a tight embrace and warm blue eyes locked on his dark ones. Being strong for Lucy for so many hours on end, when his own heart was sore and full of questions, was getting exhausting. Edmund sighed and attempted to stretch. Lucy whimpered in her sleep. Immediately he returned to his former position, curled around his sister, protecting her as best he could.

"Just a little while longer," Ed whispered.

*******

Peter caught sight of his brother and sister and caught his breath. "Thank Aslan!" he whispered.

It was the way their faces looked. The golden glow of the Lion shone from them, brighter even in this train station than it would be on the street. Peter knew that look. He wondered if anyone who wasn't a friend of Narnia would notice it. It had been on all of them when they came back the first time, and again the second. Peter felt a sense of sweet joy that Aslan had not failed his promise to them… and a rush of pain at the thought that he hadn't been able to share it with them. _Your time was up, _he reminded himself. Now it was his privilege to enjoy the adventures of his younger brother and sister. He stood watching them for a moment, as they alighted from the train that had taken them to and from Aunt Alberta's. King Edmund the Just. Queen Lucy the Valiant. In Peter's mind, rich velvet cloaks replaced their drab traveling clothes. Edmund looked about them, spoke to Lucy, then began gathering up the bags and boxes piled at their feet.

Suddenly Peter remembered that he was supposed to be bringing them home. "Ed!" His voice carried over the crowds and he waved frantically. "Lu! Here!"

Lucy's voice sang out, pure as a young bird's. "Peter!" She looked about swiftly but didn't see him.

Edmund's flashing bright eyes found him. "Pete!"

Peter had no idea who moved first, but a moment later he found himself in their arms, hugging and laughing, just as they had those many years in Narnia whenever there was a reunion between the brothers and sisters. _If only Su were here for this, _he mourned. But his sister was still in America with Mum and Dad. For now it was just he and his two youngest siblings. He pulled their faces down close to his.

"You don't even have to tell me," Peter whispered, fierce with joy. "I can see it all over you! You've been to Narnia!" He laughed giddily at the startled expression on Lucy's face and whirled her around. "These arms have borne a bow and arrows!" He grabbed Edmund's right hand and pulled his brother to him. "This hand has wielded a sword!"

He caught them both up in his arms and buried his face in their hair, Lucy's shining locks and Edmund's black curls. He inhaled deeply. The scent rushed upon him so swiftly that he felt his knees give way a little. Warm and sweet and wild. He who made Narnia what it was. Aslan had kissed his brother and sister.

"And the perfume of the Lion's Mane clings to you," he breathed. He dropped a kiss on each of their heads, not caring that they were in a public place. "Thank Aslan you got back to Narnia!" He finally held them at arm's length, grinning, to see if they had gotten any taller.

They were crying.

Both of them. Some fresh heartache had Lucy in tears. Even Edmund, who hated to show such strong emotions, was wiping vainly at his eyes.

"What is it? What did I say?" Peter began to panic. "Isn't everything alright? Is it about Su? Or Mum and Dad? W-what…"

"Pete." Edmund, his voice hoarse but composed, interrupted. "Stop worrying, will you? It's nothing to do with anything here in England."

Lucy turned to hide her face in his shirt. Edmund wrapped his arms around her, then raised his face to look Peter in the eye. Ed had always been good at speaking with his eyes. His meaning could not be misunderstood now.

Peter's heart dropped. _Oh Aslan, not this! _"You – you won't be going back again?"

At Edmund's nod, he swooped forward to crush them in a hug, tighter and tighter, desperately wishing he could bury them both in his heart where they would never feel pain again. Lucy's sobs shook the three of them. Passersby began to murmur. Peter heard pity in their voices, at the sight of three children mourning as if at the loss of a loved one. Peter hugged Edmund and Lucy despairingly.

Oh, _Aslan! You never told me how I should comfort them when their time came._

*******

Lucy sat curled up in Peter's lap on the living room sofa. Edmund was in the kitchen making tea for the three of them. Peter had offered to do it, but Ed waved him away tiredly. "Go on. She needs you."

"And you don't?"

At his brother's bewildered tone, Edmund had given him a fierce look. "Of course I do," he said in a low voice.

Lucy felt a little selfish, having first Edmund's comfort on the train and now Peter all to herself. But she knew her brothers. Being Kings and Knights and all of that made them terribly chivalrous, in England as well as Narnia. So for the past five minutes she had rested in the High King's arms. She buried her face in his hair. Peter had begun to let his hair get longish again, and she knew that as soon as he saw the first signs of a beard, he would happily grow one. Lucy had loved the honey-colored beard of Narnia's eldest sovereign. She always thought it made her brother look the most handsome and noble of men. She half-closed her eyes. The soft gold of Peter's hair blurred in her vision, and if she didn't think about it too much, she could imagine it was the Lion's mane glowing in the late afternoon, Narnian sun. Lucy snuggled into Peter's chest, and his arms tightened in response. It wasn't quite the same thing as being in the paws of Aslan. But it was almost as good.

_Almost, _she found herself thinking. _From now on, everything will be just "almost."_

A soft _thump _drew her attention. She opened her eyes. Edmund had set the tea tray on the table. Lucy watched as he poured three cups, putting honey in her tea, sugar and lemon in Peter's, all without asking. Fifteen years in Narnia had made him well aware of his brother and sisters' preferences, of tea and many other things. He handed a cup to Lucy.

"Thank you Edmund." She took a sip, the warmth and honey flowing through her.

Ed said nothing, merely tapped her under the chin with a sad smile. Lucy watched her brother as he took his own drink (with plenty of sugar) and sat down next to Peter. Ed had actually gotten a little bit of sun while on the _Dawn Treader, _and Lucy had been delighted to see the familiar sprinkling of freckles that she remembered from their long years as monarchs. But now, in England, with the effects of the voyage erased, his face was clear and pale. It worried her. Somehow, Narnia was the health of her and her siblings, especially Edmund, and to know that he could never get it back was frightening. Lu knew that her own countenance was not what it had been aboard ship. She had stared into the mirror for a little while after coming back to Aunt Alberta's, searching for what Peter and Edmund called her "Dryad face;" cheeks of cherry blossom pink, eyes the color of a spring sky, auburn hair wind-blown about her temples. She had looked and looked, but Lucy couldn't find it.

For a few minutes there was silence as the three displaced sovereigns drank their tea. Then Edmund set his cup down. His dark brown eyes looked into Lucy's blue ones for a long moment, and glanced down.

Lucy's fingers tightened as she followed his gaze. She hadn't put the package down for a single second since the moment Eustace handed it to her. Nor had she opened it. Some unspoken agreement had been reached between the two of them that the package would remain wrapped until they were with the one person who could best understand what they were feeling right now. Lucy put her teacup away. Then, hesitantly, she reached up and took Peter's drink from him. She slipped out of his lap to sit between him and Edmund.

Her oldest brother's blue eyes widened slightly. "Lu?"

Lucy gave a small smile as she slid her fingers under the strings that tied the package. "You'll see." She began working on the knots.

"Need any help with that?" Edmund asked quietly.

Lucy shook her head. "No. Eustace did a good job with these knots, though. Drinian must have taught him…" Then her voice drifted away. Her fingers went weak.

Without a word, Edmund brought out his pocket knife and cut the strings. The paper fell open. Peter gasped.

It was the painting. A trim green ship with a square purple sail and a Dragon's head for a prow plunged through shining waves. Lucy felt as if she was seeing it for the first time, although she had stared at it for hours after coming back from Narnia, thinking that she might never see the painting again. Supposing Aunt Alberta got rid of it for some reason? Lucy was surprised that Eustace had managed to sneak into her room and get the picture without her noticing. Then again, he had learned a thing or two about stealth in Narnia… Lucy fought back tears and looked up at her brothers.

Peter seemed to have forgotten to breathe. The _Dawn Treader_was so very Narnian that he would have known it in any world. "By the Lion," he whispered. _"That's _how you got in?"

"Correct," Edmund murmured, his eyes drinking in every line and swirl of the painting. "It was in Lu's room at Aunt Alberta's. Came to life, it did, and pulled us in. And Eustace."

_"Eustace?" _Peter looked as if someone had suggested he eat his crown. "Oh dear, I _am _sorry I missed that!"

"So are we," Lucy quavered.

Peter shuddered and hugged her. "Never mind me, Lu. You must have had a dreadful time with that little blighter…"

"Oh, I suppose he was rather awful to begin with," Edmund grinned, albeit shakily. "But you know the effect Narnia has on people. Especially beastly little boys."

Peter stretched his embrace to include Edmund, who rested his dark head against Lucy's shoulder. "Indeed I do, Brother," he murmured softly.

"Eustace gave the picture to me this morning," said Lucy. "He's really turned himself around, Peter. Or rather, Aslan turned him around…"

Edmund nodded against Lu's shoulder. "We were there for months, Pete. Sailed to the World's End."

Their brother, the High King, stared at them. "I _say…"_

And so Edmund began to tell the story. Peter listened, awestruck, to the adventures with Caspian and Reepicheep and Eustace-turned-Dragon-turned-human-again. Lucy listened to her brother, the rise and fall of Edmund's solemn court-manners voice taking on the sing-song quality of a Narnian fairy tale. He was in the middle of telling the story of Eustace being un-dragoned when his voice began to grow softer and softer, and then there was a very long pause, and Lucy found that her eyes were closed.

And the next thing she knew was that she was being put in her own bed, too tired to protest. Soft kisses pattered against her face. Warm, sweet sleep came to claim Lucy.

*******

**...ummm... did I mention this gets very angsty? **

**Yeah, it does. Will you still review? Pretty please?**

**Also, I am looking for a Beta and would prefer it to be someone who has read my stuff already... it would mostly be spelling and grammar check (I'm so nitpicky, and yet mistakes still get through!!!), continuity check, and just the overall ability to be tough and tell me what you really think... so before I go sifting through the Beta tab, would anyone care to take me on?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I! If I did, I'd be discussing the _Voyage of the Dawn Treader _with Georgie Henley and Skandar Keynes _right now!_**

**_Rated: T for intensity_**

**_All other notes at the bottom._**

*******

Edmund closed the door of his sister's room. He hadn't expected Lucy to go to sleep so easily, after her long nap on the train. But she _had _cried herself out on the way home from the station, and he supposed the tea and the cuddling and above all the long story, told in his own rather tired voice, was enough to exhaust her. Peter had realized that she was asleep and carried her to bed, with Edmund close on his heels. The younger brother had made sure to leave the picture on her nightstand, where she would be sure to see it when she woke.

Peter slung an arm around his brother. Quite automatically, Edmund leaned his head against the High King's shoulder and sighed. "Oh Pete, I _am _glad to be home." Then he frowned. "Or rather, I'm glad to be back at our _house, _instead of Aunt Alberta's"

Peter hugged his shoulders tighter, and Edmund knew his brother understood what had _not _been said: Finchley wasn't home. Narnia was. "And I'm glad to have you back, Brother."

"Pete," Edmund said softly. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

Edmund shrugged out of Peter's arms and headed for their room. It was the second time tonight Pete had called him that. He couldn't say, had never been able to say, that of all the titles he had borne, the one closest to his heart was that of "Brother." It was Peter's own special title for him, the one he most cherished. The girls often called him that, but it wasn't the same. When his brother said it, it was like that moment, all over again. The moment Edmund came back to life on the battlefield, after the White Witch stabbed him, and he looked up and saw Peter's wonderful, agonized, awestruck face hovering over him.

It was the first time Edmund really realized that his brother loved him. Moreover, it was the first time Ed had been able to know that he loved Peter back.

So when Peter had snatched him up in the tightest embrace imaginable and whispered "Brother, Brother," in his ear, Edmund knew right then and there exactly what Pete was trying to say. From that moment on, "Brother" had been the one name Peter had for him that simply meant, "I love you." And it was the name most likely to unlock his emotions at this moment. Edmund wasn't sure he was ready for that.

Peter stayed tight on his heels as Edmund reached under his bed. "Ed? What did I say?"

"Nothing, Peter… I'm just tired." Edmund picked up his suitcase and began unpacking it.

Peter wasn't having any of it. He came to stand behind his brother, and gently placed his hands over his shoulders. "Edmund…"

The younger brother shook his head. "Not ready to talk yet," he mumbled.

"You don't have to talk… you know that."

Edmund was about to snap that he wasn't ready for a good long cry either, that he was tired and head-achy enough without getting fussy, and that Pete should just save his bloody sentimentality for Lucy, when a familiar scent stilled his tongue. He looked down.

He had come to the bottom of the suitcase. In his hand was a rather rumpled cotton shirt. The one he had worn when they had been pulled into the painting, and again the day they came to the World's End. The day Aslan sent them back to England. The day he told Edmund he would never see Narnia again. Hesitantly, Edmund lifted the shirt to his nose. It smelled of salt and sea… and the Lion.

His knees buckled.

Peter caught him, perhaps startled by his younger brother's abrupt sobbing, perhaps not. Either way, he sank down with Edmund in his arms and hugged him tightly.

"… okay… okay…" The High King's beloved voice.

Edmund huddled in his brother's grip, the shirt clutched to his face…

"…Edmund… shhh …" Peter rocked him gently as he cried.

… the salt of his tears mingling with the smell of Narnia…

"…it s going to be okay … hush, now…"

…the smell of salt, and air, and light… and freedom like nothing else…

"…I love you, Ed," Peter whispered, rubbing his trembling back. "We'll get you through this…"

…the freedom of loving and being loved...

Peter's arms were twined around him and he made soft, soothing sounds in his ear. Edmund hung on to him, woefully needy but unashamed. There hadn't been need for this kind of comforting in well over a year, not since the battle against Miraz's army. It was only after everyone else had been tended to that the two Kings embraced one another, shivering, as they did now. Just like the end of every long, anxious battle, when Edmund and Peter finally found one another walking slowly among the dead or injured troops, and were able to collapse into each other's arms and let go of their fears.

Edmund buried his face against Peter's shoulder. It was so like Narnia… and yet so not.

Peter said nothing for a long, long time, merely held his brother and stroked his soft, dark hair. "Alright Ed," he murmured after the sobs had run their course and Edmund was breathing somewhat more steadily. "I know…"

"No you don't either!" Edmund mumbled, rubbing his wet face against Peter's shirt. "You didn't have to sit there with Lucy all those hours, knowing that you weren't doing a good enough job of comforting her!" A shudder, an aftershock, ran through him.

His brother's hands fluttered over his hair like a breeze. "Wish I had, though," Peter crooned. "And I think you did a wonderful job of it. You're much tenderer than you realize, Ed. I should know…"

"And you," Edmund choked, knowing his brother wanted to hear it all. "You and Susan! I know it bloody near killed you when you knew you couldn't go back and that we might, but… at least I knew you'd have me and Lu to tell you about it when we did." He drew a shaking breath. "We've lost our anchor, Peter."

"Ed?" Peter's face scrunched up in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

Edmund sighed and rubbed at his damp face. "Don't you see?" His dark brown eyes searched the High King's face. "As long as _one _of us could go to Narnia, at least that one could come back and tell the others about it, and remind us all that it wasn't just a dream!"

"Oh." Peter mulled over this, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers through Edmund's hair. "I suppose… yes, I suppose knowing you and Lu could go back gave me some sort of hope. I'm not sure what for…"

Ed reached up and clenched his fingers in his brother's shoulder. They locked eyes.

"The hope that you would never forget," he said fiercely. "That Narnia would never become just some shadow in your heart. The hope that we would always be together in our memories, whether in that land or this. The hope that we would be ever at each other's back, always each other's protection in any battle, and that England could never take away what Narnia and Aslan gave us. The hope that we wouldn't forget _each other-"_

"Wait," Peter interrupted, looking confused. "Are you talking about the girls too, or just you and me?"

Edmund abruptly shut his mouth, his face going scarlet.

His brother seemed to melt. _"Oh, Ed…"_

Edmund pressed his face into Peter's chest, fighting back the tears that were pushing at his eyes again. It had been back there all along, that thought. Ever since the summer before they were pulled into Narnia a second time to help Caspian. The thought, the doubt that had begun to grow when he saw Peter, the anguished King in a teenager's body, slowly pull away from him, even though Ed had loved and needed him more than ever. Of all the things Edmund feared about losing Narnia, the one he feared most was that he would also lose his brother.

Peter wove his fingers through his brother's hair, dropping his chin to rest on the top of Edmund's head. Ed smiled into Peter's shirt, remembering that he had comforted Lu in much the same way on the train. At least he knew who he had learned it from.

"Ed," Peter said at last, murmuring into his hair. _"Brother. _There's no need to fear." He tapped Edmund under the chin, causing the younger King to look him in the face. "We spent fifteen years fighting to defend each other. I held you when you died. You carried me when I bled. Together we fought for our sisters, ruled a kingdom, loved our people and our lord. There's almost nothing we haven't done for each other." His eyes, soft and blue and comforting, seemed to reach Edmund's soul. "A brotherhood like that doesn't just go away. We've been through too much together for that to happen. As long as we want it and are as willing to fight for it as we were willing to fight for Narnia and Aslan, it's never going to fade. Maybe the anchor isn't in Narnia any longer. Maybe it's simply in each other." He smiled gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Edmund swallowed hard, knowing that his next words would hurt. "But you did, once."

Pain flickered across Peter's face, but he nodded slowly. "Yes, I know." He shifted his grip, trying to settle his brother more comfortably. "But have I since?"

"Never."

"And the oaths I have made to you since then… have I ever broken one of them?"

Remembering his brother's ongoing promises, sweet and selfless and as full of protection as only a King and Brother could make them, Edmund smiled and shook his head. "No, Peter." His lips trembled.

Carefully, Peter slid out of his brother's grasp and knelt in front of him. He put one hand on Edmund's knee and stared into his wide brown eyes.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Edmund breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from his brother's face even if he had wanted to. "You know that."

Peter pressed a kiss to the side of Edmund's face and smiled.

"Then trust me with your love."

_To Be Continued_

*******

**First of all, a _huge _thank you to Sentimental Star for being my Beta. I appreciate it so much! Thanks also to Aslan is Love, LunaNigra, Miniver, BonniePrincess, Lavendar, Doewe, GeoffreyF, GuitarGirl496, LishaChan, SpangleyPony, and Sentimental Star again for reviewing! You all are lovely!!!**

**In some ways this was the hardest chapter for me to write, because I wasn't sure just how much of a breakdown I should let Edmund have... hopefully I got it right in terms of movieverse, which is what I am basing this in. Lucy's chapter is ****based in movieverse that isn't exactly obvious... you'll see what I mean.**

**Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated: T for intensity**

**All other Author's Notes at the end of the chapter!**

*******

Lucy woke to the sound of a high wind. For one moment she thought she was back aboard the _Dawn Treader, _and that a gale had come up in the night. But when she turned over to see if there were waves at the windows of Caspian's cabin, she saw cloud-strewn moonlight shivering through the curtains. In the illumination she recognized her own bedroom in Finchley. She let her eyes rove over the little room she shared with Susan… the flowered wallpaper, the yellow headboard, the matching nightstand… and the painting of the _Dawn Treader._ One of her brothers must have put it there.

Lucy rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, thinking that she must cry again. But no tears came. Only a hollow feeling. She was never going back home. Aslan had told her so, and Aslan had never lied to her. Lucy smiled into her pillow, memories of promises made and kept by the Lion coming to her one by one. It was a long, long list.

She sighed. If she closed the eyes of her conscious mind she could almost taste Narnia, put her arms around it, nestle her face in it, drink it in. She could, perhaps, pretend that Narnia was right in front of her. But Lucy had long ago stopped pretending. The young Queen knew that Aslan did things in accordance with a higher power. If the terrible, beautiful Lion sent her away, it was for a reason. Yet in a corner of her heart, she felt betrayed.

It wasn't something she was used to feeling.

"Aslan," she whispered. She blinked her eyes shut, the utterance of his name here, in this world, causing more pain than she had thought it would. "Why did you bring us at all? Why would you show us such a beautiful, golden world… let us live in it for so long… come back time and again… and then send us away forever?" Lucy rolled onto her back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why, Aslan?" she said in a somewhat more forceful tone. "Whatever is the good of doing such a thing? Why would you make us love you and then push us away from you? I think that's the meanest thing…"

The wind began to growl.

Lucy pushed herself up on her elbows and glared at the window. "Well, it _is_ mean!" she declared, fully aware that, to all intents and purposes, she was speaking to thin air. "Imagine how you would feel, if we asked you to do things for us, and you always did them, and then when we'd had enough, we shut you out!"

There was no answer, of course, only the branches of the Ash tree outside making shaky patterns on the curtains.

Lucy jerked her covers aside and got to her feet, the traveling clothes she had fallen asleep in twisting and tangling about her irritatingly. She opened the door of her room and stalked into the hall. A glance told her that it was very late, for her brothers' bedroom door was shut, and no tell-tale sliver of light shone under the threshold. Lucy nodded to herself. All the better. She scurried downstairs to the foyer, unlocked the front door, and slipped quietly outside.

She went straight to the Ash. It quivered in the wind. Lucy couldn't help almost scoffing at it as she tramped through the grass in her stocking feet. No Tree of Narnia would shake and cower so in a mere breeze! It would have bowed at the sight of its Queen, and in a husky voice offered her shelter in its boughs, on such a night as _this!_ If she had accepted, giggling at the thoughtfulness of the Tree, it would have stretched its long limbs out and picked her up delicately, holding her close and protected, twigs and leaves now and again catching at her robes as Lucy stretched her own arms to embrace her friend of the Wood.

The wind tugged at her hair and skirts, the rushing noise of it growing slowly louder. It dragged at her, as if wanting to pull her away into some other place… like the call of Susan's horn the second time they went to Narnia. For the briefest space of a moment, Lucy wanted to give in to imagination, wanted to close her eyes and whirl into the wind and just _believe _that when she opened them, she would be in the middle of the Narnian wood with a thousand Dryads dancing and bowing and caressing her! Only it _wasn't _the horn and it _wasn't _Narnia and they were never going back! She, Lucy, was never going anywhere, except back to some dumb school with dull little girls all "her own age." She slapped at the quaking Ash, frustrated by the unyielding bark that clothed no Dryad, just dead, heartless wood.

"Aslan!" Lucy clenched her teeth together, determined not to shiver in this stupid wind. "This world is as foreign to me as this tree is foreign to Narnia." The wind pushed at her, but she refused to lean against the Ash. "So why, when I was so suited for that other life, did you see fit to… to dig me up, and move me somewhere else? Narnia was – _is – _everything to me! _Why,_Aslan? Why would you send me away?" Her voice rose with the wind, determined not to be drowned out by its hollow howling. "If you can hear me at all, then tell me!"

Briefly, Lucy wondered if she was crazy. Out here in the middle of the night, arguing at some befuddled wind as if it was a living thing! It gave a wild shriek, and with a snap, Lucy felt something equally wild break in her, her voice rising in defiance of the roaring in her ears.

"_Didn't I do what you asked of me?" _She cried. "Didn't I dance with the Dryads? Didn't I sing with the Fauns? Didn't I comfort them, even _weep_with them? Didn't I love every Narnian as you did? They _loved_ me. I loved them! Why would you let me live with and love them for fifteen years, and not let me _be_ with them at the end of their lives?"

The wind tore at her, but Lucy hardly felt it. Dear Mr. Tumnus! The agony he must have gone through at her disappearance! The memory of her sweet, gentle friend made her feel suddenly very alone. "And then to take us away without even offering them a scrap of comfort!" She shuddered and sank to her knees, one hand still on the tree. "Yet even after all those years, Aslan" she murmured, "When we were gone from the Narnians, they still kept our memories alive! For thirteen hundred years, even when the last ones to see us finally died, the others still believed in us. They even _sought _us…"

And then her own words seemed to echo back in the air.

_They still believed in us…they __**sought **__us…_

Her eyes opened wide. _"Oh, Aslan!" _she whispered.

Had he not told her, on that very last day, that he was in her world as he had been in Narnia, but that she must learn to know him by his other name?

"Oh Aslan, I'm not strong enough!" she gasped, clutching suddenly at the Ash. It didn't seem such a dead thing now, although it still shook, even as the wind began to gentle. "Aslan… please, I don't understand! Being in this world and trying to know you by some face that I don't recognize… how could that be better than speaking to you face to face?" The tears she had wanted when she first woke up were coming now. "I don't even know _how _I am supposed to look for you! Or how long it's going to take!" Lucy's lips shook as a painful thought struck her. _What if it takes my whole life? _She felt something akin to panic. "Oh Aslan, I'm not _brave _enough!" She cowered against the trunk of the Ash. Soft breaths of the ever-present wind traveled through her hair like whispers, like gentle hands. She closed her eyes, wishing she didn't feel so alone.

_If Aslan is a person here in this world, _she thought, feeling the rough bark press into her face, _he probably isn't the sort to hang 'round other people's houses at two in the morning…_

"Lu?"

Lucy gasped and whirled to her feet, her hand automatically flying to the hip where her dagger used to rest.

Peter had come up behind her. At her reaction he actually backed up a step, surprised.

"Peter," Lucy gasped. "Oh my, you startled me!"

"What in the name of Aslan are you _doing?" _he demanded.

Her jaw worked silently for a moment as she stared at her brother, the shadows of the shuddering Ash flickering across her face. "I – I…"

Peter watched her for a long, puzzled moment. But when she turned to the tree, and ran her fingers slowly down the rough surface, understanding crept into his eyes. He gently gathered her into his arms, pressing his face into her hair. "Come on back inside the house, Lu," he murmured. "It's far too cold."

Shivering, Lucy leaned into him. "How did you know I was out here?" she mumbled as Peter led her to the door.

"You were shouting," he answered quietly. They slipped inside. "I thought perhaps you were having a nightmare. But when I went to your room, you weren't in bed."

"I didn't mean to be so loud… did I wake Edmund?"

"No… I think he exhausted himself, after we talked." Peter stared down at her in the half-light, his hand resting on top of her head. His let his fingers gently work through the tangles of her wind-whipped hair. "Do _you _need to talk, Lu?"

Lucy bit her lip, unable to turn away from those worried blue eyes, and yet not wanting to say… that at what seemed to be the first test, she had failed.

"No Peter," she finally said in a small voice.

Peter didn't seem able to accept it. "Lu," he began.

"I said _no, _Peter!" she snapped.

He looked shocked… and hurt. Lucy wasn't surprised. She had always come to him. Him, not Susan or Mum. Even when he had wandered away from himself, after their first expulsion from Narnia, she had still gone to Peter when she was troubled. It was just the way things had always been. But this was different. This, Lucy realized, was between her and Aslan.

She stepped forward contritely and wrapped her arms around Peter's waist, tilting her head back so that she could stare into his wide, bewildered eyes. He hesitated, then gingerly hugged her, turning his head to rest his cheek against her hair. Lucy tightened her arms as she felt him quiver. So strong and yet so vulnerable, the two of them. The ones most likely to bare their hearts. Peter had always been there to defend Lucy. But this was something even he couldn't fight.

"Please, Peter," she murmured at last. "I think this is one battle… that can only be fought by me."

*******

_"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper."_

_1 Kings 19: 11 and 12_

*******

**First of all, a great big Thank You to Sentimental Star for being my Beta! This chapter was a bear for me to write, and she definitely helped me to wrangle it *smiles***

**Second, another great big Thank You to GeoffreyF, ProdigiousDiscourse, GuitarGirl496, min23, SpangleyPony, doewe, LunaNigra, Miniver, Aslan is love, Tonzura123, Lavendar, LishaChan, Autumnia, Crayola Crayon, rmiller92, and Sentimental Star for your reviews of Chapter 2! I hope I responded to every one and apologize if I did not.**

**So… yes, I did try to push Lucy a little bit outside of her ever-sweet, ever-humble character in this chapter! I remember hearing Georgie Henley say that Andrew Adamson often cut scenes where Lucy got angry or shouted, and it seemed to me that a character as deeply emotional as Lu must have a breaking point like this.**

**The verse is one of my favorites in the Bible *smiles***

**Peter's chapter will be up next week… and apparently, he has a lot to say *grins* As a result, Susan will also have a full chapter to herself, after Peter.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated: T for intensity**

**All other Author's Notes at the End!**

*******

_"Aslan!"_

_Peter whirled on his heel, staring in bewilderment at his younger sister as she pointed across the gorge._

_"It's Aslan, over there! Don't you see?" Her face was alight with the glow that came when she was in the presence of the Lion._

_But when Peter scanned the forest across the ravine, there was no Lion in sight. He frowned. "I don't see him, Lu."_

_"He's right there," Lucy insisted. "Right between that gnarled tree and the big flat rock."_

_Peter stared and stared, but he could see nothing. He concluded that Lucy was teasing. "Silly child!" he laughed," "Fancying things that don't exist. You almost had me believing…"_

_"But I-"_

_Peter sighed. "Oh Lucy, stop it! There's no Aslan in sight, and may never be, any how. How do you know he's still alive, after all this time?"_

_Lu gasped. "Why Peter!"_

_Edmund suddenly spoke up. "I don't know, Pete. I thought – well, maybe we __**all **__thought – that Lu was just imagining Narnia, didn't we? But she was right after all, and-"_

_"Now listen, Ed! I'm the High King! You shall both just do as I command!"_

_"But-"_

_"Edmund!" Now Susan stepped in, regal and proud. "Lucy! Both of you quit wasting our time and do as Peter says!"_

_"Oh Susan, not you too!" Lucy cried._

_"I say Su, that's not fair!"_

_Peter snorted and turned his back on his quarrelsome siblings. Let them sort it out. They were always bickering any way, like the children that they were… a flash of metal in sunlight drew his attention, and he glanced down at his left hip, where the hilt of his sword jutted out from the scabbard. He frowned, thinking that the pommel would be far more comfortable to grip without that tiresome lion's head carved into it…_

_There was a crash and a scream._

_Peter whirled to find himself alone on the precipice, a gaping hole in the earth in front if him, his siblings no where in sight. _

_Panic snatched at him. "Lu!" he cried out, rushing to the tear in the cliff. "Susan! Ed!"_

"_They're gone now."_

_He jerked about in fright, and saw Susan standing a few paces away, her face oddly calm._

"_They fell," she added matter-of-factly._

"_**No!!!" **__He lunged forward, but she grabbed him and yanked him back before he could fall._

"_What's the matter Peter?" she demanded. "Isn't this what you wanted?"_

_He stared at her in shock._

"_Didn't you want to be King over all, with no tiresome little brother to challenge your authority and no annoying baby sister to always tell you to 'look to the Lion?' There __**is **__no Aslan, Peter." Susan smiled, an odd, sad smile. "We've known it all along, we two, haven't we?"_

_Peter's lips moved, but he dared not speak._

_She put a light hand on his arm. "Come with me."_

"_Where?" Peter wondered._

"_Back to England," Susan said gently. "Back to real life."_

"_But Edmund, and Lucy! They're-"_

"_Gone?" said Susan. "Yes of course. They won't __**come **__back Peter; they don't want to."_

"_I can't just leave them here!"_

_Susan stared at him for a long moment. "Then you are alone," she said in a soft voice._

_She walked away into the mist, leaving Peter to kneel at the edge of a precipice, and mourn his brother and youngest sister._

_Oh Aslan! You never told me…_

Peter woke quietly, to the pleasant noise of a bird singing outside his window. For a moment he wondered why the sound felt so irreverent, so disloyal, like someone whistling at a funeral. He wondered why the warm, soft sunlight filtering through the curtains felt like a slap instead of a kiss. And then the dream, vague and frightening and _real,_ brushed against his mind. He gasped and immediately rolled over, flailing about for his brother. His hand grasped empty sheets.

"_Ed!" _Peter whispered, scrambling out of the bed that, just last night, had held the two of them. _**"Edmund!"**_

There was a shriek and a crash.

He tore out of the room and down the stairs.

Halfway down, at least. On the turn of the landing he rammed straight into Edmund, who had come pounding up the steps from the kitchen. The force of the impact threw them off-balance, and for a moment they struggled to remain upright.

"_Ed!" _Peter gasped, grabbing his brother up in a tight hug. "Oh thank the Lion!"

"Peter!" Edmund clutched at him. "What is it?" he demanded, brown eyes burning into Peter's gaze. "Why did you yell like that?"

"_Where's Lucy?"_

"Here!" Lucy flew up the steps and straight into Peter's ready arms.

He hugged them both, shuddering and grateful. They were alright, he told himself. He _hadn't_ turned his back on them when they needed him. They_ weren't_ at the bottom of a ravine. They _weren't_ dead. They were in his arms, safe. He shivered.

True, Ed was as pale and worn looking as he had been last night, when his older brother had watched over him while he slept. No amount of sleep, Peter thought grimly, was enough to put color back into Edmund's face. And Lucy, although she held her eldest brother's hand in a tight and familiar gesture, still seemed intent on battling something that only she knew of. It made Peter feel as if he didn't know her as well as he once thought. It worried him. _They've been through a lot, _he reminded himself. _We all have…_

But the dream… it _was _just a dream. No matter what else his brother and sister were going through, Edmund and Lucy were right here with him, and Susan… Peter shuddered. He didn't know where Su was _right now, _but she and their parents were due home tomorrow. That was enough. Sighing, he cuddled his brother and sister close.

Edmund seemed about to press for an explanation, then shook his head and hugged his brother. "Are you all right, Peter?" he asked quietly.

Peter nodded. "Bad dream," he murmured.

"Oh." Lucy reached up to touch his cheek. He caught at the small fingers, loving them for being so small and tender, but mostly just for belonging to Lucy. She smiled in understanding when he kissed at the half-moons in her nails. "It was only a dream, Peter," she said, gently patting at his face, "Come now, forget it."

Peter shuddered, recalling the too-real sound of the precipice crumbling. "How?"

Edmund twined an arm around him. "Come with us, and you'll see."

Peter obliged, letting them hang on to him and guide him down the stairs, through the foyer, into the living room… where a fantastic breakfast was spread out on a folding table in front of the sofa. He gaped at the repast in front of him. Eggs, toast, sausages, fruit, all served on Mum's best china!

"What _is _this?" he gasped.

"Our thank you," said Lucy simply.

"_What?"_

"For last night," Ed explained. He pushed his brother to sit on the sofa.

Lucy fluffed out a napkin in his lap. "And yesterday."

"And…" Edmund paused, an odd smile on his lips as he poured his brother's coffee. "All the other times…"

"…that we might have forgot to mention all those years." Lucy caught his hand in hers and rubbed it gently. "We thank you, Peter."

Peter stared at them wide-eyed.

"It was Lucy's idea," Edmund said finally, the awkward silence pushing him to speak.

"We _both _thought you needed it," Lu protested. "You mean so much to us, Peter…" Her voice trailed away, but her anxious sea-sky eyes held his. _You know that, right?_

Without warning, Peter pulled them both down into his lap.

Lucy shrieked, then gave a bewildered giggle.

"_Pete!" _Edmund gasped, trying to unwind his brother's arm from his waist so that he could breathe. "By the Lion, what's got into you?"

"My Lord and Lady," Peter said, his voice sober, "It is I who should be thanking you."

"Peter!"

"For all _you _have done," he said, determined not to let Lucy contradict, "In support of your brother."

"In support of our brother _King," _Ed countered.

"Whom we love," Lucy added, voice soft, "And who more than returned the favor."

Edmund gripped his shoulder. "Many times over."

Peter's breath caught in his throat. Lu made a soft, cooing noise and reached to hug him, and Edmund wound his arms about them both. For a time the three disappeared into a single embrace.

"Best not let the toast get cold," Edmund said a few minutes later, when his brother had finally relinquished his death-grip on the younger two and let them take a seat on the sofa. He sat forward and began passing food from the table to his siblings. There was silence as they started in on their breakfast.

"Do you remember that?" Lucy asked suddenly, pausing with a coffee-cup halfway to her lips.

"Remember what?" Ed mumbled around a mouthful of toast.

"Toast," she said thoughtfully. "Sometime, I can't really recall when, you were eating toast very fast, and I told you… to slow down… that Narnia had plenty more…"

Peter felt a shiver run down his spine.

Edmund stared at her. "Lu." His eyes had a strange light in them. "Yes, I remember now…"

"It's such an old memory," Lucy murmured.

"So long ago…"

"When was that?"

Peter cleared his throat.

"Beruna," he said simply.

Ed titled his head to the side in puzzlement.

"The day before the Battle of Beruna," Peter explained. "The first meal we four all ate together in Narnia, at Aslan's camp. That was the day we agreed to stay… and fight."

"I'd forgotten," Edmund breathed, looking both grateful and bewildered as the memory snapped into place.

Lucy seemed to be fighting tears. "So had I…"

"And I," Peter murmured.

They all remembered the big things; the battles, the feasts, the envoys to other countries. Etched in their memories were images of their favorite books, their crowns and royal robes, every detail of Cair Paravel. And they recalled the Narnians who lived and served with them, and the foreign royals whom they entertained, and the beasts whom they slay… and Aslan. They all remembered Aslan. It was easy to recall the big things. But, Peter wondered, did they remember the little things, the little moments, the immaterial essences that were present for only a heartbeat and made up all the in-between times of fifteen years in Narnia?

Peter touched his sister's hair softly. "Do you remember other little things like that, Lu?"

At first she looked uncertain. "I remember," Lucy began hesitantly. "Waking up one morning at Cair, and looking out my window to see you, Peter, walking about the garden at sunrise." She looked up, a sudden glow in her eyes. "And you took the one daffodil still growing…"

Peter caught his breath sharply, the memory coalescing and blossoming as surely as a little golden flower in the spring. "I gave it to Susan."

"Because they were her favorites."

"_Are _her favorites," Edmund murmured. "And she was so surprised to see it on her breakfast plate, next to the eggs, that she laughed."

For a moment the three stared at one another. It could have been any morning, Peter thought. He had loved the peace of the gardens at sunrise, and walked among them when he could. And he often gathered flowers for his sisters. This was just _one _moment among millions. Yet they remembered it. That _one _moment.

It was glorious.

"I remember," Edmund said quietly, "Once during a sparring match with you, Peter, that a Bird flew over us. I think it was a Kestrel…"

Lucy gasped. "Oh I remember this, Edmund! Peter told us at dinner…"

"It was a fledgling," Peter cut in. "And he wasn't used to his wings yet, and our flashing swords distracted him. He fell on the grass near our feet…

"…nearly got trampled…" Edmund grimaced. "So you carried him home to his mum."

Lu nodded. "He wasn't the first young bird you carried back to its nest."

"No. But it _was _probably the first time one fell right into the middle of a sparring match," Peter chuckled, the recollection of the little bird of prey's tumble suddenly opening doors in his mind, doors that led to other innocent creatures under his lordship.

Another shared memory. Another piece of Narnia. Another way to hold on…

He looked at Edmund, who was actually grinning, some of the night's pale haggardness gone, and at Lucy, who looked more Narnian than he had seen her in ages.

"Do you know," Peter said quietly, "I think we should do this every day. Every morning. We should remind each other of these little things… these little memories we share. Aren't they, in a way, just as important as the big things? As long as we don't forget them…" he caught Edmund's eye. "Then I don't think we're in any danger of forgetting all we had together. All we _were _together."

For a moment there was silence.

Then Lucy said softly, _"Every _morning, Peter?"

"Yes. That way… it's always a part of us."

The youngest Queen's lips trembled. "Promise?"

Peter put an arm around her, bowing his head regally. "You have my word, Your Majesty."

She smiled.

Abruptly, Ed caught Peter's face in his hands and planted a kiss square on his cheek.

Peter stared at him in surprise. As a rule, the younger brother took exception to being kissed in front of other people, even if "other people" was just his baby sister. But judging by the fierce expression of gratitude on his face, Peter didn't think the younger King cared one bit who saw, this time.

"Thank you," Edmund said quietly.

"I told you," Peter whispered, a slow smile touching his lips as he embraced Ed, "I'm not going anywhere."

_TBC_

*******

**First of all, a huge thank you to Sentimental Star for being my Beta for this chapter! And another great big thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter 3 *smiles* You all are so amazing!**

**I'd also like to thank Peter Pevensie for writing his own chapter *smirks* He ended up doing something rather different than I had planned... far better, in fact! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did.**

**The dream sequence is mostly movieverse (Hence, the direct quotes) with some bookverse blended in. And no, Susan did _not _shove Ed and Lu off the cliff! Let me assure you that I am sympathetic to our lovely Queen and would never cast her as a villain.**

**Speaking of which, Susan's chapter will be posted next week, and then this little fic will be all wrapped up!**

**Until then. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated: T for intensity**

**Special Note: Please keep in mind that all of the characters mean what they say _literally. _There is a particular bit of dialogue that this applies to. You'll know it when you see it.**

**Enjoy!**

*******

Susan Pevensie was the most cautious member of her family. Predictability was a comfort to her. Order, routine, logic. Those were the things that made her feel settled and secure. To break that routine was to break a facet of Susan's personality.

The trip to America had been a jolt to her placid way of life. Being somewhere other than home, in a new and surprising place, should have been unsettling. But it wasn't. Susan wasn't sure she could explain it. She decided she liked this way of life. Traveling, making new acquaintances, learning new things. Maybe, she thought, she would become a traveler herself. There were more ways to learn than to lock oneself up in a university. There were more ways to earn her keep than to become a secretary.

She felt a wave of sympathy for her brothers and sister when she thought how much less pleasant their summers must have been than her own. Poor Peter, slaving away studying for exams in Professor Kirke's tiny little cottage! Poor Lucy and Edmund, stuck with their dreadful cousin Eustace for so many months. A warm little glow of motherly affection filled her heart for all of them. Yes, even for her elder brother. Though he might deny it, Peter was often in more need of Susan's patient guidance than the younger two. It was a role she had filled many times in the past few years, and one she embraced fully. For Susan, to know that her siblings looked to her was to know her rightful place in life.

When the cab finally stopped in front of their Finchley home, the front door burst open with gleeful shouts. The next thing she knew, Susan was literally being dragged out of the automobile and into her younger brother's arms.

"_Susan, Susan, Susan!"_ Edmund practically yelled her name in her ear as he hugged her.

"_Edmund!" _

She was laughing from surprise as much as delight, wondering why on earth her normally undemonstrative brother was suddenly so affectionate. But the next moment Peter and Lucy caught up to them. Susan had quite forgotten her high heels and fancy hat. Lu had knocked the hat sideways with a half dozen or so delighted kisses, and Peter had picked Susan's feet right up off the ground with his enthusiastic hug. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Edmund kissing Mum, and then Lucy skipped off to jump into Dad's arms, and then Edmund came back to hug Susan again, and suddenly the whole Pevensie family seemed to be in the middle of a game where every one of them just had to give all the others as many hugs and kisses as they could, whether they had been together in America or at Eustace's home or the Professor's cottage. It was breathless and full of laughter, and Susan couldn't remember ever being happier.

"Oh, I've such a lot of things to tell you!" she exclaimed, happily snuggling Lucy to her as they walked into the house. "I've been so many places and seen so much! Lu, you must come to America some time. It's frightfully jolly! Don't you think I look well, dear?" she asked, suddenly remembering her beloved hat. Susan set the pretty thing straight and laughed, knowing Lucy would admire the feathers.

"Delightful!" Lucy grinned, impishly setting the hat askew again with another embrace. "And not just because of your borrowed feathers, either! But simply because I'm so happy to see you again."

Susan laughed again. "You silly thing! They aren't borrowed at all, but bought and paid for!"

"Courtesy of my pocketbook," their father chuckled as he walked past them with Susan's suitcase, "As the weight of your valise can attest, my dear!"

"Oh, Dad!" the eldest daughter scolded. She swatted her father's arm playfully. "I couldn't very well wear the same clothes to the cinema as I did to the library, now could I?"

"_Did _you go to the library, Su?" Edmund asked with a smile.

"Of course!"

"_Once!" _their father called from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, Dad!"

"And the cinema?" Ed inquired wickedly.

"Dozens of times," their mother groaned. "And she dragged her poor, tired Mum along with her each and every time!"

Susan pouted, a hint of a smile hiding in the corner of her mouth. "Now Mum, you know that's not true! We only went once or twice a week at most. And you needn't have come if you didn't want to. I would have been perfectly fine without a chaperone."

"Rot!" their father called down, his voice muffled and echoing. "I don't trust those American boys with my daughter one bit!"

Peter's and Edmund's eyes suddenly went sharp and alert. Lu's eyebrows shot up, a mixture of pride and alarm on her face. Susan groaned inwardly. They had _always _reacted like this to her suitors… beaux, rather.

"You had a date?" Peter asked, his voice polite and wary.

"_A _date?" their mother laughed before her daughter could respond. "She had a dozen at least!"

Susan rolled her eyes before saying patiently. "There were only three boys, Mum, and-"

"_And _you had to have a new frock for each one of them. My, my, I'm surprised President Roosevelt didn't invite you to tea! You certainly _dressed _like the Queen of England, sailed across the ocean from the east for a royal visit." Chuckling, their mother walked off to see what kind of damage her three other children had done to her kitchen in her absence.

Susan shook her head at the silliness of her parents, then turned back to her siblings with an impish smile, fully prepared to dodge the barrage of concerned questions about the behavior of her beaux that she knew would be forthcoming.

Instead, she was surprised to see the three of them staring at her gravely.

"Now, don't go making a fuss," she said gently. "They were nice boys, all of them. Do you really think Mum and Dad would have let me go out with any other kind?"

Lucy was the first to recover. "Of course not Susan dear," she said, an odd half-smile on her face. "You… you must have had a lovely time…"

Susan nodded happily. "Oh yes! I'll tell you all about it, I-"

"Su," Peter interrupted suddenly. "Don't you think Lucy and Edmund look well, too?"

"Of course," she raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, taking the opportunity to brush a stray lock of hair out of Ed's face. He scowled, as he always did when any of his siblings fussed over him and he was pleased. But somehow his expression fell flat, having none of the inimitable Edmundishness it normally did. Susan frowned.

"Don't they look as if they… they have kind of a glow to them?" Peter pressed, a queer look on his face.

Susan looked at them in surprise. "Well, no… no more than usual. Have you been in the sun much, darlings? Ed isn't sunburned, or anything…"

Peter sighed and shook his head. "Never mind."

But clearly her older brother _did _have something on _his _mind, for he stared at her intently as the four of them trooped upstairs.

Finally Susan couldn't stand it. "Whatever is the matter, Peter?"

For one long moment, she thought he wasn't going to reply, and she wondered why the prospect of _not _knowing what was going on was a relief to her. But finally, Peter spoke.

"Susan," he said, "You're not the only one who went away to another country this summer."

***

Susan stared at the painting in her hand. It was all gold and green and purple, all promises and adventures and a whole other lifetime. A lifetime that her younger brother and sister had just told her was at its close. Susan stared at the Dragon-headed ship and felt something, like a weight that had been holding her in place, suddenly release. She slowly put the picture down.

"That's it then," she whispered. "It's over."

"What was that?"

Susan glanced up. Edmund was staring at her.

"It's done, isn't it," she said firmly. "Narnia. No more falling through wardrobe doors for any of us. We're not kings and queens any longer. We're just us."

"But Aslan told us that once a King or Queen-"

Susan cut her older brother off with a silencing hand. "Here? In England? Do you really think he meant you were to be King of England, Peter?"

"But that's just what he _is." _Lucy protested. "It's just what we all are! Maybe he isn't _the _King, but he is still _a_ King, and always shall be. You didn't stop being English just because you went to America, did you?"

"Of course not. But-"

"Then I don't see how there's any difference!"

"Because I'm not still _living _there. Don't you see, Lucy? You talk as if you're still _living _in Narnia."

"And always shall!" Lucy retorted.

"As shall I," Peter spoke up.

"Oh Peter, not you too!" Susan shook her head worriedly, thinking that at least her older brother should see sense! She turned to Edmund, hoping that her somber, straight-thinking brother would side with her.

But Edmund only watched her with a sort of troubled resignation on his face. "You see, Peter?" he said quietly. "I told you…"

"Told him what?" Susan demanded.

"A bunch of rot!" Peter declared, beginning to look angry. "It's absolute _rot, _Susan, the very idea of us not being Narnians any more!"

"But we aren't!"

"We are!" Lucy cried.

_"Aren't!"_

_"Are!"_

"Enough!" Edmund interrupted, pale but calm. "Yelling about this isn't helping matters any." He put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "What is it Su?" he asked in a soft voice. "I know it's hard to hang on, but-"

"I don't _want _to hang on!" Susan protested.

She shook her head again, the look in her brother's eyes telling her that, although he hadn't yet declared to still be Narnian, he believed it just as firmly as Lucy and Peter did. She saw that the three of them were still deeply rooted in Narnia, and it frightened her. How did they expect to ever be happy in _this _world if they were so entrenched in _that? _Didn't they understand?

"I just wish you would all try to be happy _here," _she said gently.

"We are happy!" Lucy protested.

"But not… not _completely _happy. Not as if you loved this life fully."

Edmund snorted. "Oh Su. How could England _ever _compare to Narnia?"

"Exactly my point," Susan pressed. "How could anything, in reality or imagination, compare to what we have right here?"

Peter's jaw dropped. "I say! Don't you think it should be the other way around? England can't hold a candle to _Narnia, _you mean to say!"

Susan sighed. _"No, _Peter. That's _not _what I mean to say. Yes, Narnia was beautiful. Yes, it was a perfect dream. Yes, we had a whole other lifetime where we were something different. But the fact is that it's _over _now. And if we all cling to that other lifetime so tightly, we'll never be able to live the lives we have _now."_

"_Susan!" _Shock covered Lucy's face. "How can you say that! You talk as if remembering Narnia is a bad thing!"

There was a very long silence as Susan's siblings stared at her, their eyes pleading with her to refute what Lucy had just said. To lie to herself and to them for just a little longer. But Susan couldn't do it. She was the sensible one, the protective one, the one who had known, the first time they came back from Narnia, that home was England, and would be from now on.

"Maybe," she said quietly, "It is."

Three sets of eyes went wide.

"Don't you see?" she plunged ahead. "If we're really never going back, then what use is it to fret over this? Remember how hard it was when we first came back?" she pressed. "Remember how odd and cast out we felt? How we felt as if we were strangers in our own home?" She turned to her older brother. "You Peter! Surely _you _recall how hard it was to go from being at the height of existence to just a child in a war-torn country!"

"_Susan!" _Edmund reproached, throwing an anxious glance at Peter. The older boy had gone very still, his lips pressed tightly together and a harsh flush on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry if those words pain you," Susan said gently. "Please, I just don't want any of you to be hurt! Pining for Narnia can't possibly be good for your spirits. Remember what that did to us the first time? How for months we couldn't look at one another without seeing just how strange and ill we all were?" She stepped forward and gently touched Edmund's face. Ever the susceptible one to troubles, he was. "You looked just as you do now, Ed," she said worriedly, seeing him through the gray lens that was England.

"He looked well in Narnia!" Lucy insisted, clenching Edmund's shoulder with her hand. "On the _Dawn Treader _he was as hale as he was when we hunted the White Stag! We both were!"

"And you, Lucy!" Susan worriedly brushed a wisp of hair out of her little sister's face. It was Lucy that Susan feared for the most. Her ardent, defiant little sister, with all of her courage and passion and infamous Lucy Pevensie stubbornness. "Don't you understand, dear? You can't just keep living in that world when you're _in _this one. Life keeps moving forward. Even in Narnia, life kept moving forward!"

Lucy stared at her, a small frown on her face. "But part of me _does _still live in Narnia," she said softly. "My _heart, _Susan."

Susan shook her head. "And what of your heart _here, _Lucy? Are you not going to live and love in this world too? Would you deny yourself even that? Some day you'll understand," she said patiently. "Some day you'll meet someone, and fall in love, and realize that you _do _have a future here-"

"No."

"What?" Susan stared in surprise.

"I said, no," Lucy repeated firmly. "Don't you remember, Susan? I vowed to take no other love than Aslan for my whole life long."

"But – but that was in Narnia!" Susan gasped. "Surely here-"

"It doesn't matter. I meant that with all my heart and I still do."

"Lucy!"

"And I _am _moving forward! Aslan told us we could find him here, remember?" Lucy caught her sister's hands in hers. "This isn't the end! It's only just another job that Aslan has for us! We can still _seek _Aslan-"

"At the expense of what?" Susan cried, frightened by what her sister seemed to be proposing. "You're willing to throw yourself into looking for Aslan-"

"Yes!"

"For how long?"

"However long it takes!" Lucy declared. "Don't you see, Susan? We've all the time in the world, now!"

Then her eyes widened and brightened, as if her own words had somehow struck a chord in her heart. A slow flush swept over her face. Susan stared in bewilderment as Lucy seemed to change before her eyes, so familiar and so different. Susan looked at her brothers and saw them turn to one another slowly, a satisfied smile between them. They recognized this look on their littlest sister's face. Susan felt as if she were being left out of a secret.

"Oh Aslan!" Lucy breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "Thank you, Dearest Lion!"

Susan, watching her sister float between worlds, could only hug herself against a sudden chill and shake her head in distress. It was terrible, but she couldn't deny it. Her sister hadn't really come home at all!

Peter came to put an arm around her shivering shoulders. "Susan," he said gently. "We three have decided that we shall talk about Narnia every day, to keep it alive in our hearts. And we should very much like it if you would join us."

"Oh Peter!" Susan wailed.

"Please, Su." Edmund caught her hand in his and rubbed it gently. "Think how wonderful it will be!"

"Just think of it, Susan!" Lucy begged. "The four of us, together as we have always been, with Aslan, _here in England! _And when we find him, we can introduce him to Mum and Dad, and tell _them _all about Narnia, and-"

"No!" Susan shook her head rapidly now. "No, no! I'm sorry, but I just can't." She backed away from her siblings. "Please," she said in a shaking voice. "I can't bear to see the three of you just give up on living this life, but if this is what you have decided, then I see I cannot change your mind. I only ask…" She took a deep breath. "That you not speak to me about Narnia again."

"_Susan!"_

Peter's voice was raw with shock, Edmund's face was pale and frightened. But Lucy… Lucy looked only very, very disappointed. It was a look that Susan had seen on her face very rarely. A look that the younger woman had reserved for only the most grievous offenders in the Narnian courts. A look that made Susan squirm like a child under her younger sister's gaze.

"One day," Lucy said slowly, "I think you shall wish you had considered your answer more carefully, Susan."

Susan pressed her lips together. "I shan't."

"Shall."

"Oh Lucy," Susan sighed wearily, turning to her unpacking. "When _will _you stop pretending?"

The next instant she found herself being spun back around to face Lucy, her chin grasped firmly in the younger girl's hand. Over Lucy's shoulder, Susan could see Peter and Edmund, shoulder to shoulder and blazing-eyed as the Kings they had been for fifteen years. She blinked and looked down, staring not into the eyes of little Lucy Pevensie, but the warrior Queen whom Susan had loved and been in awe of those many years in Narnia.

"When?" Lucy asked quietly. "When shall _I _stop pretending? The day I die, Susan Pevensie. That is the day I stop _pretending_ that England is my home. That is the day I'll look back at this little mockery of a world and laugh. Because on that day I know, one way or the other, I'll be with Aslan again. He's a country unto himself, oh my Sister, and I intend to find him, even if I die doing it." She nodded once, as if deciding once and for all. "Damned if I don't."

*******

**Please remember my note at the top before you disown me entirely! Lucy means what she says literally! It is _not _meant to be casual profanity. I openly accept any and all flames for this line, okay?**

**Now, having said that... **

***flings arms wide and collapses on the couch* **

**Done, finally! I apologize for having taken so very long to get this written, but I had a few specific threads I wanted to tie in, and I certainly wanted to portray Susan fairly! Overall I am pleased. Although, if not for wanting to show the beginning of Susan losing Narnia, I would have liked to make it a nice, fluffy, happy ending...**

**Thank you ever so much to those of you who have read and reviewed! Your encouragement and helpful nudges are what got me to finish this before I gave up on it. I do hope you have enjoyed!**


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